11. 10 #4
“Theodore, let go,” Mabel pleaded, her voice tight with pain. “You’re hurting me.”
He didn’t respond. His grip remained ironclad around her wrist.
He guided her past the glowing awning, beyond laughter and firelight, into the hedge maze looming beneath moonlight and cold breath. Shadows curled around the hedges like waiting hands.
Once swallowed by the foliage, Theodore stopped sharply, turning on her. His eyes flared with something raw, something she hadn’t seen before. “What did I tell you?” he snapped, voice slicing through the hush.
Mabel recoiled instinctively, breath catching. “Wh-what do you mean?” she asked, heart thudding hard in her chest.
“I told you to stay away from him,” he growled.
When she tried to pull back, he yanked her closer, his fingers pressing deep into her skin.
“What is so hard to understand?” His voice dipped lower now, dangerous.
“I was very clear.” His gaze held her in place like a cage, cold, possessive, and full of something she hadn’t dared to name until now.
“It was just a dance,” Mabel said, voice shaking as she tried to hold her ground. “It meant nothing. Why are you so angry with me?”
“You disobeyed me.” Theodore’s voice cracked like ice. Then—without warning—he shoved her.
She stumbled backward, fingers reaching for balance, but the ground rose too fast. Her body hit the frostbitten grass with a dull thud. Cold crept up her skin, but the ache was deeper, lodged in her chest. Staring at the ground, breath trembling, she tried to process it.
He pushed her.
He actually—
Her gaze lifted slowly, eyes wide with shock. “I …”
But the words failed her. All that rose was the sting behind her eyes. Tears brimming, unwelcome. “You said you were sorry,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “You apologized.”
“As if that means anything,” Theodore scoffed. “I apologize all the time, Mabel. It’s practically ceremonial.”
She stared up at him, disbelief crashing through her chest as her heart slammed against her ribs.
“When I tell you something, you better fucking listen,” Theodore snarled. “You will not speak to him again.”
Mabel couldn’t reply. Her voice clung to her throat, too stunned to rise. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, cold against flushed skin. She felt frozen, paralyzed on the ground.
Theodore had shoved her. Yelled. Crossed a line she hadn’t known existed—until now.
Something inside her didn’t just crack. It split.
She rose slowly, stiff as stone, jaw clenched, fingers trembling as she brushed the dirt and snow from her gown.
Her palms stung. Her chest burned. But her eyes—her eyes were steady.
When she met his gaze again, they were no longer afraid.
“You don’t want me to speak to him? Fine, I won’t,” she said, voice like steel.
“But you’re going to tell me where you’ve been disappearing every night—where you’re going tonight. ”
“What?” he barked, startled.
“You heard me.”
“You don’t get to demand—”
“And you don’t get to throw me to the ground!” she snapped, voice rising, raw at the edges. “As if I’m beneath you. As if I’m not the woman you’re supposed to marry.”
She stepped forward, fury coiled in every limb. “I will not let you treat me like that,” she hissed. “I will not let you become my father. What he did to my mother—to me—I will not relive it.” Her makeup was streaked. Her face flushed. Her voice shook. But she stood her ground.
The ache in her chest twisted, surged. Her breath caught. Her fingers curled.
And the fire bloomed.
It erupted from her palms without warning, without incantation. No ritual. No restraint. Just heat, pure and alive, rushing through her like a scream finally released.
Theodore glared, fists clenched, a step forward—
Mabel didn’t flinch. “I fucking dare you.”
He stared at her for a beat before his laugh came sharp and mocking, hollow beneath the polished charm that slid back over his features.
“You think your pathetic flames could hurt me?” he scoffed, inching closer. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would—and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
Mabel stood her ground, gaze hardening on him. Her palms trembled, but the fire only flickered higher. “Do your worst.”
The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy. Theodore studied her closely, tilting his head. He let out a short, dry laugh, eyes narrowing on her. “How do you know I’m going somewhere tonight?” he asked, too smooth, too careful.
“Answer me first,” Mabel snapped, voice rising with the flames in her fists.
Theodore’s mouth twisted into something unreadable. “He told you, didn’t he?” he mused aloud. “And here we go again—you believe him over me. Make me the villain.”
Her expression didn’t waver. “You’ve just done that yourself,” she said, voice steady, fire pulsing between her fingers. “He didn’t need to say anything.”
Their stares clashed like drawn blades, neither willing to yield.
“Do you not see the life carved out for you?” Theodore spat. “I am your best match. Your only match. You could be queen of the richest kingdom in Valken—and instead, you’d rather run off with my brother like some whore.”
“I don’t want your brother!” Mabel cried, the words ripping through the frost. “I wanted you. I didn’t care about the crown, or the power, or the wealth.
I just—” Her voice cracked. “I just wanted you.” The fire in her palm dimmed, flickering low as anger gave way to hurt, deep and unraveling.
“And this,” she whispered, tears threatening to spill over again, “is how you treat me?” Her breath came jagged, each one stealing the air from her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling, and turned away.
Theodore opened his mouth to speak, but Mabel was already moving, shoving past him with swift, forceful steps carrying her out of the maze and toward the gathering.
“Mabel,” he called. She didn’t look back. “Mabel!”
Her pace quickened into a run, skirts sweeping around her legs as she fled through the crowd. Gasps followed her like ripples across water, heads turning, whispers blooming in her wake, but she didn’t stop.
Mabel reached the carriage and climbed inside, shutting the door with trembling hands. She collapsed against the cushioned interior, heart pounding against her ribs like a war drum. Her breath came in ragged bursts, too quick to catch. She couldn’t stop shaking.
Inside, the world felt muted.
The lantern light outside cast flickering shadows against the carriage walls, the hum of celebration now distant.
Mabel sat curled in on herself, fingers trembling as she wiped at her cheeks. Tears and makeup smeared into the soft hollow of her palm, streaks of vulnerability she didn’t bother to hide.
The fire within her had quieted. But it hadn’t gone. It pulsed low in her belly, coiled and waiting. She could still feel it, like a second heartbeat. Not summoned by rage, not sparked by fear. It had come from her.
And now, in the silence, it stayed.
Her reflection shimmered faintly in the carriage window, eyes rimmed with red, crown slightly askew. She reached up and gently removed it, setting it beside her on the cushion. It no longer felt like a promise. Only a weight.
In the stillness, her breath began to slow. Her hands found her lap. Her spine straightened.
Theodore had secrets. He had rage tucked behind charm, control masked as protection. And tonight, he had shown her who he really was.
For the first time, she no longer wanted to understand him. She wanted answers. She wanted freedom. And she wanted to protect the version of herself that still believed she was worth tenderness.
The carriage rocked slightly as she sat forward, elbows on her knees, hands pressed to her cheeks. Her heart still thundered, but her tears had stopped.
He shoved me.
He mocked me.
He lied.
She had wanted him. She’d waited for him, forgave him, bent herself into a shape that fit his world, and tonight he threw her to the ground like she was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Mabel leaned back slowly, eyes trained on the dark window.
The flame inside her now sparked with something steady. Something cold. Something that wouldn’t be ignored.
She wasn’t going to let it go.
She had to find out the truth.
Even if it ruined everything.